What We Became
by in.your.embrace.x
Summary: This is a story of pasts and of grudges, of mistakes and of scandal, of parties and of tradition and of fame and of love. This is a story about people. Post-season two...where the next generation of the upper east side follow in their parents' footsteps.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of the most fabulous TV show, Gossip Girl, though I would so own Nate! Go Chace Crawford--he is _so_ hot. Everything you recognise is not mine and I give my thanks to the owners. Anything that you don't recognise--including the main characters and plot--is all mine. Thanks for reading!

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**What We Became**

"_Looking back, it matters not who we were but who we became. Who are we truly, not yesterday but right now?"_

**Gossip Girl Fan Fiction **

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This is a story of pasts and of grudges, of mistakes and of scandal, of parties and of tradition and of fame and of love. This is a story about people.

Ice Queen. Flirtatious riser. Movie Star. Invisible child. Troubled drinker. Quiet student. Social outcast. Runaway newbie. Eight teenagers vow to correct their parents' pasts and change the future, and in doing so, discover more about themselves than the people they try to change. Set twenty-four years after season two.

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**EPX00: Prologue**

_Summer, 2009_

_New York City_

I want you to imagine a scene. There's a girl. And there's a boy. Now imagine lots more girls and lots more boys, most rich and few . . . well, in comparison, pretty poor; generally hot and with good fashion sense; all students at the two most prestigious private schools.

Then think of their companion—seemingly on the inside yet always on the outside, like an outsider peering in. A guardian angel of sorts, only not a good type. There have to be some bad angels, right?

Hi. That's me.

Now, I'm a senior, off to college (nowhere you need to know) no longer going to be part of the little world I observe. The thought's almost painful—I might seem cold-hearted but I've come to understand and even care about the characters that I torment. I should write a book about them.

The truth is, I'm here to give life lessons on what I've learned being me. Yes, lessons in life—don't you dare laugh!

I guess the first lesson is that some things end because they should. One of my characters puts it best—"fairytales end when they do for a reason". To some of us, high school was kind of like a fairytale; keep in mind fairytales only have to be happy at the end. But close this chapter of your life and get ready to start a new one—this time, you're the author.

The next is that, for all you youngsters, relationships are not a walk in the park. You have to work at them to keep them going, to be prepared to embrace your partner's flaws and virtues and to accept their history. And sometimes, you have to be patient and change yourself for the better because, even if the other person loves you for who you are, you want to _be_ better. And even then it's a rocky ride.

The third is about the past. You're in high school; no one is going to stay the same. This is the time where you become who you want to be. You can't change who you were but you can change who you are now and will be in the future.

And finally, mistakes do not carry over through generations. You do not have to be as your parents were or do as your parents did. The fates do not have control over your life—you do. You always have a choice, and if you find yourself making their mistakes, think about not how to walk back and take another road but do you want to? What didn't work for them might work for you.

So here we are, at the end of this stage in our lives. This is it. Now we walk into our own worlds, imagine our own scenes, chase and realise our own dreams without adult supervision. I wish you good luck—we're all going to need it.

As for me, well, my name is unimportant. But you . . . you may call me Gossip Girl.

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**Thanks for reading. Please review. For those who really want to know, this is going to be about the children of Chuck and Blair, Nate and Serena, Dan and Vanessa, Jenny and OMC, Georgina and OMC and Eric (adopted).**


	2. Earth's Heaven and Hell

**Disclaimer:** *skimming fic* Mine! Theirs! Mine! Theirs! If you've seen it before, it ain't mine. If it's new, it is. Simple as that. Enjoy ze fic! Woot!

* * *

**What We Became**

"_Looking back, it matters not who we were but who we became. Who are we truly, not yesterday but right now?"_

**Gossip Girl Fan Fiction **

* * *

This is a story of pasts and of grudges, of mistakes and of scandal, of parties and of tradition and of fame and of love. This is a story about people.

Ice Queen. Flirtatious riser. Movie Star. Invisible child. Troubled drinker. Quiet student. Social outcast. Runaway newbie. Eight teenagers vow to correct their parents' pasts and change the future, and in doing so, discover more about themselves than the people they try to change. Set twenty-four years after season two.

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**EPX01: Earth's Hell and Heaven**

_Autumn, 2033_

_New York City_

The steps in front of the Met, according to his mother, were the traditional meeting place of Constance and St. Jude's royalty, so Jacob walked up them quickly, not wanting to get into that kind-of _trouble_. A girl passed him, almost running down the steps, and had he been paying attention he would've noticed how pretty she was—brown hair in a simple ponytail, creamy-white skin, a curvaceous figure—but his mind was on other things. Like what he was going to do after school.

He had to find somewhere to stay. Money wasn't really an issue, he'd almost drained his trust fund and put it into another, adult account, and now he could rent an apartment nearby, forging the papers, of course.

The girl tripped a few steps below him and went sprawling down; luckily it wasn't too far until the pavement. Jacob hurried down to help her up. Like all men of the socially elite scene, he was brought up to be a gentleman.

"Are you okay?" he asked, giving her a hand up. She looked fine, not even scraped hands though her jacket was ripped.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine, thanks," replied the girl, dusting herself off. She cringed at the sight of the rip. "I'm gonna have to grab a new jacket, though."

"It doesn't look too bad," he said.

She stared at him, probably wondering why he was still there. Jacob tried not to blush.

"Oh, right, thanks," she almost stammered. Quickly, she recovered. "I'm Paige Bass, nice to meet you. And thanks," she added.

"Jacob Sparks, and no worries," he answered. He was too shy to add a flirtatious comment.

"I haven't seen you around before . . . you're not a freshman, are you?"

"Junior, but yes today's my first day. I was just about to go up to reception."

She nodded in understanding. "Oh, I'm a freshman but my sister's a junior so I'd show you the way but my jacket . . ." she trailed off, blushing.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments before she broke it. "I really have to go—school starts in forty-five minutes and I need to run back for my jacket." She blushed again. "Not really run, that would ruin my heels . . . not that that's really important but, um . . . yeah, I'm going to catch a taxi . . . not that you catch a . . ."

She was permanently red, now. Jacob struggled not to laugh; it was quite cute, actually.

"Yeah, I'll . . . um . . . be leaving," she said, finally, racing down the sidewalk. Abruptly, she turned. "You might want to head up to reception quickly; the Queen Bee and her entourage always arrive half an hour before school." And then she carried on running.

Jacob watched her, smiling, and inwardly hoping he'd see her around. He carried on up the steps.

Another girl arrived just as he entered the school courtyard. Ophelia Humphrey, a junior from Brooklyn, known as just that: Ophelia Humphrey, the junior from Brooklyn. Well, it was one thing she was going to change. She would follow in her Aunt Jennifer's footsteps and become a member of the social elite scene. There was no doubt.

For two years, she'd laid the foundations—done favours for certain students, been seen with the right people by the right people, gone to the best parties (at least the one's she'd managed to waggle herself into) and been _noticed_. Today, the first day of her junior year, she was going to try and get _in_.

The Queen Bee was actually her cousin, Lindsey Baizen. You'd think that that would give her instant status but unfortunately, her Dad and Aunt Jenny weren't on speaking terms due to her "attitude change and disastrous choice of husband" in her Dad's words.

Ophelia bristled. This actually made it harder for her to achieve acceptance, but luckily a few well placed phone calls to her Aunt Jenny had landed her brownie points. They were going to shopping that weekend at her Aunt's own store. Jenny Humphrey-Baizen was an esteemed fashion designer who went under the label _Haloless_. Ophelia loved her clothes.

Not wanting to appear either lost or desperate, she took out her phone and began writing a fake text to pass the time. Phone games were stupid and dorky and writing the right text could always be useful in some way.

_Hey, just got to school. How are you? I miss you. It isn't the same without you. But I have so many plans for when we get a few moments alone. Why don't you— _

"Look who we have here, ladies," said a voice in practiced tone.

Ophelia turned and saw the very girls she'd been waiting for, and at the front, Lindsey Baizen, Queen Bee. She took a minute to be jealous of Lindsey's good looks—the blonde hair in curls, the perfect skin tone, gorgeous ice-blue eyes, almost her mother's twin. Her figure wasn't perfect if you were critical but she dressed to make it very desirable to the opposite sex.

Ophelia was pretty but not beautiful, but Lindsey was the second best-looking girl in the school. Audrey Bass topped her but then the movie star would, wouldn't she? Her best friend was totally gorgeous. Ophelia, though, with her mother's darker-than-white skin tone, boring brown eyes and hair from not just one of her parents, didn't turn heads. Her figure, though, when dressed in an immodest outfit . . . well, then she felt hot.

Behind Lindsey were her "sidekicks" as Max, her brother, called them but really her entourage, respected and with status. They were who Ophelia wanted to be . . . for now.

"What do you want, Humphrey?" Lindsey asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ophelia was about to reply but one of the entourage—Angelina Williams—whispered something in her ear that made Lindsey's eyebrow reach higher lengths than before.

"Is that right . . ." she murmured. She looked up at Ophelia, who was no longer holding her phone. "Take a seat, Ophelia. We're reviewing the new freshman."

The books, just like every year, were opened and the stats about each new freshman were revealed. Ophelia stayed quiet, knowing she had to wait until called upon. They were discussing Amelia Burns, a sun-kissed mover from Florida who'd only been in the Upper East Side for ten days when Lindsey looked up.

"What do you think, Ophelia?" she asked. "Induct or ignore?"

Ophelia phrased her answer quickly but in detail, making sure she covered what she needed to and came off with the right impression. "We know next-to-nothing about her so I say keep her close and induct her. She's new so you can mould her to the right fit and if she proves worthless . . . well, she won't be here long, anyway."

There were a few moments of silence where she waited with baited breath. Finally, Lindsey nodded approvingly and Louise Phillips wrote her name down on a list.

Another ten minutes flew by in the same fashion until the entourage began to pack up. Lindsey finished off her coffee and set it on the sidewalk. She fished out something from her bag and Ophelia's heart leapt before she could stop herself from building hope.

"The _Sparkle like Diamonds_ party I'm hosting on Friday," she said, handing out the invitation. "I seem to have an extra invitation. Innovation, the new club, at seven. Wear something appropriate."

Nodding modestly, despite her wanting to squeal, Ophelia followed the entourage up the steps of the Met. Lindsey had given her a shoe-in; now, it was up to her.

x-o-x-o

"We shouldn't be doing this, Kyle," murmured Audrey Bass, her hands unbuttoning Kyle Archibald's shirt. Kyle pressed his lips to her neck and Audrey moaned, arms coming to rest around his neck and his lips moved lower and lower until—

"We—we really shouldn't be doing this, Kyle, really we should—_oh!_"

"Don't tell me you want me to stop," he murmured, his lips moving back to her neck, his hands tracing her stomach and above.

"Not really, but . . ." his lips caught hers in a searing kiss and all thoughts of protesting went out of the window.

She leaned back until she was flat on the bed and then flipped them over, so she was straddling him. Hands met hot flesh and more moans erupted . . . until they were interrupted by a loud vibration on the bedside table. They sprung apart as if struck by lightning. Getting his breathing under control, he pressed the _accept_ button on his phone without checking the ID.

"Shoot."

"_Kyle, you're gonna be late. You got less than fifteen minutes 'til school starts, man."_

"Shit. Lost track of time. Thanks, Ethan. I'll grab a taxi."

"_All right, I'll save you a seat in the assembly."_

"Thanks, man."

Audrey was already buttoning up her blouse and grabbing her blazer. Kyle did the same, swearing under his breath.

"We'll grab a taxi together and I'll get out before you. We'll just have to hope no one notices," he told her.

She laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, like that's ever going to happen. You know how people are, Kyle, especially around us. They'll have phones out and it'll be circling around like Gossip Girl's been resurrected."

Kyle sighed, grabbing his rucksack and swinging it on. He picked up Audrey's books as she grabbed her bag and they left in a hurry, thanking god that the maid was cleaning the living room and Mrs Bass was out. Mr Bass always left for work early.

A taxi stopped quickly and soon they were off. Audrey turned and fixed his tie tenderly, admiring the softness of his hair and the green of his eyes. He was the most envied guy in school; the son of the two hottest adults, Nate Archibald and the former Serena van der Woodsen. He was thought to be the luckiest guy in the world—the girls wanted to date him and the guys wanted to befriend him, and he was from one of the richest families and had the most wonderful parents—but she knew better.

He kissed her softly and then pulled away, a hand tracing the side of her cheek.

"I know," he whispered. "But I can't."

She sat back in her seat, away from him. "And this is why I don't want to keep doing this! Can't you see it's wrong, Kyle? Can't you?"

"Audrey . . ."

"Can you stop here, please," she told the driver. She refused to look at him; her amber eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"Audrey, I—"

The cab stopped. "I'll walk," she said, getting out of the taxi and refraining from slamming the door. Kyle watched her stride down the sidewalk purposefully.

Kyle sighed. The argument was not new but one they had constantly, ever since he and Audrey had started their affair one week into the summer. Yes, affair. He was currently dating Lindsey Baizen, Queen Bee, and that was what Audrey hated. But he couldn't break up with her. Not now.

The taxi stopped outside the school and Kyle paid him before almost running into the school. He wasn't late to the assembly, not really, maybe by a few minutes but that was okay. He wouldn't have worried but the Ivy League assembly was something he couldn't afford to miss. Luckily, he managed to slip in and took a seat next to Ethan van der Woodsen, his best friend since they were children.

Five minutes later, Audrey slipped in.

He watched relentlessly for a moment: the calculated pace she kept; the rich, burgundy colour of her hair; the way her knee-length coat swung with each quiet step. She took a seat next to her best friend, Ophelia Humphrey.

A few seats down was the problem in their relationship. Lindsey turned as if she felt eyes on her and smiled when she caught him looking. Kyle admitted she too looked pretty today—fresh for a new year. But as she turned back to the front, his eyes were drawn back to Audrey.

She was right; there couldn't be three people in a relationship.

And he loved her.

But he couldn't break up with Lindsey.

He sighed, trying to push the thought from his mind but it nagged at the back, like it had since the start of the summer, like it had since he'd started dating Lindsey mid-way in their sophomore year and known that it was not the girl he wanted.

x-o-x-o

Max sat down in the courtyard in the centre of the Constance and St. Jude's buildings, his lunch in front of him. He heard the obnoxious laughter of his sister, Lindsey, and her entourage as they walked down their usual table. Audrey Bass was with them, he noted, and that made him think of Paige. He'd been away for the entire summer and hadn't seen her. He missed her desperately—they were best friends, it was only natural.

Best friends.

His gut twisted.

"Hey," said Paige brightly. Max took secret pleasure at the fact she was only this happy when with him. Otherwise she was shy and quiet and . . . well, invisible.

"Hey, yourself," replied Max, smiling at her. "How was your first day?"

"Good. Miss Varner was a pain in History, though, she gave us homework already," she babbled. "And then Madame Rouge spoke almost entirely in French but luckily it's my best subject along with English and I understood. You should've seen the other faces, though." She laughed aloud.

Max just smiled, in awe of her bubbliness until someone else joined the conversation. Then she closed up and blended into the shadows. He supposed it would've looked strange to anyone looking in, seeing the most timid freshman in the year bouncing in her seat.

"What about you? I can't believe I have no Tuesday classes with you!"

"Chem. was interesting," he answered, thinking back. "We learned loads in just the double period alone, but I can't wait until Biology. Mr Dailey's supposed to be a really good teacher. And then Maths was hell, as usual. I hate it just as much as Physics." He made a frustrated sound.

"Cheer up, doc." She laughed at her own joke—he wanted to be a doctor—and Max grinned, not at the joke but at how beautiful she was when she laughed. He'd thought she was beautiful ever since they met at a gala three years ago, when they were both in sixth-grade. He wasn't into dating, then, but he did notice how beautiful she was.

"Um . . . hey," said a new voice. Max looked up to see a guy, at least a sophomore, standing nervously next to their table.

"Hi," replied Paige, blushing. Max scowled.

"Err . . . any chance I can—"

"Oh!" Paige exclaimed, turning redder. She moved up along the bench. "Sorry, sit down."

He glanced at Max as he sat down and Max looked at Paige with a raised eyebrow. She blushed and then jumped and then blushed again.

"Oh, right, introductions, sorry," she said, flustered. "Um . . . Jacob, this is Max Baizen, my best friend. Max, this is Jacob Sparks, a new junior."

Best friend. There it was again.

"Hey," said Sparks.

"Nice to meet you," Max replied, keeping it short. Paige started up conversation before there was an awkward silence.

"So, Jacob, how's your day been so far?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Okay," he replied. "Class is the same as back home and the people are nice."

"Make any new friends?" Max shot in.

"Acquaintances, mostly, but I'm sure that'll change," he said simply.

Max hoped so. The last thing he wanted was Paige to go out with a new guy. He . . . he li—_no_, he corrected, he felt _protective_ of her. He did not have a crush on his best friend.

Focus back on the two in front of him, he felt himself grow green with envy at the way Paige was blushing as she and Sparks chattered animatedly. It continued like this for the rest of lunch.

"Well," Max said, as they got up, "I hope you meet some new people this afternoon."

Paige shot him a look. "If you don't, though, you can join us for lunch tomorrow."

He smiled sweetly at her and she blushed for the hundredth time. "I'd love to."

Max had to stop himself from stomping all the way to class.

x-o-x-o

"So . . ." said Ethan as he and Kyle took the route back to his best friend's house. They were cousins, Kyle's mother the brother of Ethan's father, and neither of their parents minded if they went round to each other's houses whenever.

"So?" inquired Kyle, hands stuffed in his pockets.

There was an awkward silence.

"Let's go out," Kyle exclaimed. Ethan stared at him. "I mean to a bar; let's get drunk and forget about life."

"Drunk?" repeated Ethan.

"Drunk," confirmed Kyle.

Ethan sighed. "No. You get drunk enough without me, you're staying sober when I'm around."

Kyle scowled. "Are you calling me an alcoholic?"

After shaking his head, he sighed. It was a losing battle. He _knew_ Kyle drank way too much and he couldn't do a thing about it. It was normal for some Upper East Siders.

Ethan took his mind off the problem for the moment and made a mental note to pick up the suit he'd ordered from Milan as his father's birthday present. They weren't related by blood—his Dad was gay—but he'd been adopted almost twelve years ago, when he was five. Despite not having a mother, he grew up well and his Aunt Serena was always a comforting presence in the background.

She was an actress, often away but never for too long. She liked being near Kyle and watching him grow up. She gave him space but never wanted him to feel alone, like she had growing up with a mother who cared more for husbands and social-climbing than her two children. Said mother was currently touring the world with her fifth husband, one of a staggering eighteen years.

Admittedly, Ethan sometimes felt jealous at the mollycoddling—his Dad had been the best but it was a mother he needed and Aunt Serena would never be her.

The house they stopped at was incredibly large and fashionable, like the others on the street, and they made their way through the gate and knocked on the door. The maid, Milenka, answered the door and shuffled them in.

"You're parents are here, Mr Kyle, but they do not want to be disturbed," she told them.

Kyle made a face as Ethan watched in amusement. His mind was always connected to the gutter. "Whereabouts?"

"The lounge," she answered, taking her leave to the kitchen.

Ethan laughed as Kyle muttered something about getting their sofa covers washed multiple times.

"Is there a game on tonight?" he asked, referring to baseball.

Kyle thought for a moment before nodding. "At five. Dodgers versus Mariners."

Ethan was about to reply when muffled shouting came from the living room. A look passed between them before they hurried to press their ears against the double-doors.

"_I do not believe it! I just . . . how can you let her control you like this, Nate?"_

"_Look, I just think that—"_

"_That what? That we should all be friends again? You have no idea how much I want that!"_

"_Serena . . ."_

"_But you know what she did! She almost ruined my reputation, she almost destroyed my career. All because of petty jealousy! I don't blame you for wanting to be friends again with him but her . . ."_

"_Honey, I want nothing to do with her right now, but she's connected to my client and I have to speak to her."_

"_On business terms?"_

"_On business terms."_

"_At a restaurant?"_

"_At a restaurant."_

"_At _that _restaurant?"_

A pause. "_Serena, I just want it over and done with and this is best way. You know how Blair gets."_

"_Of course I know! We were best friends until a year after graduation. But then she believed that—that—that bitch over me!"_

"_Serena, I'm not blaming you in the slightest—"_

Footsteps headed towards the doors and Ethan and Kyle ran back into the entrance hall, arranging themselves to look they'd just come in.

The door opened but Aunt Serena continued talking. "I know you don't, Natie. I'm sorry for shouting. But if you meet her at that restaurant there will be hell to pay."

Ethan heard his Uncle Nate sigh as his Aunt Serena shut the doors and turned to face them.

"Kyle! Ethan!" she greeted, giving them hugs once she'd reached them. "How was school, boys?"

"Okay, Mum," replied Kyle, disinterestedly. Ethan too was distracted by the conversation they'd just heard.

"Good but that's not nearly enough information." She ushered them into the kitchen. "I'll get Milenka to make some cookies and you can spill everything. I especially want to know about the Ivy League assembly—I missed it at school and never really found out what was said . . ."

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**So, my first proper chapter! What d'you think? Cool? Okay? Not bad? Is it marmite--you either love it or you hate it? Whatever you think, let me know through a REVIEW. I love reviews so give me some--please! Thank you so much for reading xoxo.**


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